


Somebody to Someone

by sohapppily



Category: Gandrew - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: M/M, yeah it's a quarantine fic and what about it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:14:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24248626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sohapppily/pseuds/sohapppily
Summary: “So let’s just chill in Spokane for a little bit longer,” Garrett had suggested, then continued with, “I think we could both use it,” and he’d been so happy when Andrew agreed. But that was two months ago and they were still, as Garrett had said, chilling in Spokane.
Relationships: Andrew Siwicki/Garrett Watts
Comments: 41
Kudos: 65





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> somehow i’m writing more youtuber rpf. and it’s about the fucking global pandemic that’s happening right now. this is the most bizarre timeline. but we might as well make the most of it with fic right? you’re here reading it so i would hope you agree.
> 
> anyway this is my first time writing this ship. i hope i did them justice and i hope they never ever read this. sorry to these men. also i don’t know the exact timeline of when and how they met or if that’s even information that’s public so just bear with me on those parts if it’s somehow incorrect.
> 
> title from prom queen by catie turner because of course it is but i listened almost exclusively to mxmtoon when i was writing this.

Garrett Watts was losing his fucking mind. Or at least, that’s how it felt most of the time.

“It’ll only be a couple weeks, then we’ll be fine to go back to LA,” Garrett had said, stupidly, to Andrew.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Andrew had agreed, and really, how could they have been so naïve to think this would all be over so quickly?

“So let’s just chill in Spokane for a little bit longer,” Garrett had suggested, then continued with, “I think we could both use it,” and he’d been so happy when Andrew agreed.

But that was two months ago and they were still, as Garrett had said, chilling in Spokane. And Garrett was so far from happy. Well, that wasn’t completely true. His level of happiness depended on the time of day, mostly.

Mornings were when he was the happiest. He’d wake up whenever the sun shone through his eyelids and open them whenever he felt like it. It was nice, not having anywhere to go or anyone to answer to. When he did eventually open his eyes, more often than not, he’d be greeted with his favorite sight: Andrew. And not just any Andrew, but morning Andrew. Sleepy Andrew. Hair mussed, rough voiced, slightly scruffy Andrew, lounging next to him on the bed. Their bed, that they were still sharing, because after three nights on a too-small couch, Andrew had invited Garrett to share the bed in the guest room since it would “probably only be a few more nights” until they could leave. The longer time stretched on, Andrew still hadn’t brought up Garrett moving back to the couch, so Garrett didn’t suggest it either.

“Hey,” Andrew would say, looking away from whatever had been holding his attention before Garrett stirred.

“Hey,” Garrett would say back, striving for even and nonchalant but always sounding soft and moony.

They’d stay in bed for a bit, chatting about what they wanted to do that day, or about some weird dream Garrett had had, or about something funny Andrew saw on twitter. The whole routine was so heart-wrenchingly domestic that it made Garrett feel so safe and loved and deliriously overjoyed in the moment, to be so close to Andrew and have all of his attention to start the day. But that happiness never lasted.

The days were strange. There wasn’t much to do, so they did a lot of the same. Breakfast. Video games. TV. Video games. Lunch. Help Marianne with whatever chores needed doing while Andrew worked on something for Shane, or some other project Garrett could never seem to keep straight. Video games while Andrew went for a run, or worked out indoors on a rainy day. Dinner with the whole family, every weeknight, Marianne insisted. “If nothing else, at least we’re getting a lot of family time in,” she’d said when she instated the rule, and Garrett quietly thrilled at the thought of Andrew being included in her use of “family.” Movies while Andrew nods off. Video games while Andrew goes to sleep. The nightly _oh shit it’s 3AM_ realization. Reluctant sleep. His level of happiness throughout the day was mostly dependent on his proximity to Andrew, but that feeling wasn’t exclusive to their quarantine.

Nights were the worst. Lying in the dark next to Andrew in a bed that somehow felt both too small and too large even though they both fit comfortably. Garrett had never been more painstakingly _aware_ of another person’s existence than he was in these quiet moments, or more aware of the distance between them, small enough that it could, in theory, be closed easily, but wide enough to break Garrett’s heart. If he paused the low music emanating from the phone on his nightstand and held his own breath, he could hear Andrew’s, soft and even and muffled slightly by the pillow under his cheek.

About a week into their bedshare, Garrett was doing just that. Lying stiller than a statue, arms at his side, breath halted while he listened to the soft inhale and exhale of the man next to him, and he had a thought. A single thought that would haunt him for the months to come.

_I could lie here forever just listening to him breathe._

Garrett knew he was in love with Andrew. He’d known it for a long time, and had accepted it as a harsh and unreciprocated reality he had to live with in order to keep his friend in his life. But the realization that just listening to Andrew’s breathing, assuring him that Andrew was alive and well and so goddamn close, was more intense than anything he’d felt, not only for Andrew, but for anyone.

And here he was, almost two months later, still in the same bed, next to the same man, having the same thought. But tonight, something happened that hadn’t happened before.

Andrew made a soft noise and Garrett dared to glance over at his face. His eyebrows were furrowed and his mouth was pulled down into a scowl. A nightmare, Garrett thought, which was unusual for Andrew, who slept more soundly than anyone Garrett knew. Andrew grunted again, then flopped on his side toward Garrett, making the distance between them practically microscopic. As Andrew’s body turned, his arm fell forward, landing palm-up on Garrett’s stomach. Garrett gasped.

In any other situation, someone unexpectedly touching that part of his body would’ve been instant panic mode, but it was Andrew, and he was asleep, so that particular anxiety didn’t surface. Neither did the fluttering feeling he usually felt deep in his gut whenever Andrew touched him. Instead, he was flooded with an entirely new feeling, one he didn’t even have a word for.

Excitement that Andrew was touching him, albeit unintentionally. Fear that Andrew would wake up or retract his hand in his sleep. Discomfort with someone touching a part of himself he hated. Deep-rooted irrational guilt that he was somehow preying on his straight friend by enjoying the contact. The overwhelming intimacy of trusting someone so implicitly that you can sleep soundly next to them.

Then his mind caught up with what was happening, and before he could stop it, the fantasies flooded in. Andrew intentionally reaching out for him in the night. Andrew enjoying the feeling of his hand resting against Garrett. Andrew opening his eyes and giving Garrett a wry smile as his hand crept lower.

_Stop._

But he couldn’t. The more he tried not to think about Andrew’s hands on his body, the more he thought about it. Andrew’s fingers. Andrew’s mouth.

_Stop._

Andrew’s hands in his hair. Stubbly ginger facial hair scraping against his skin. Lips against his collarbones, against his chest, against the inside of his thighs.

_Stop._

His name whispered so softly, then gasped.

“Fuck,” Garrett breathed, furious with himself.

He moved Andrew’s hand as gently as he could, then slid out of the bed. He slunk off to the bathroom, silently praying that no one else in the house was awake. As soon as he made it, he slipped inside, locking the door and not bothering to turn on the light. He leaned back against the door and shoved his hand down the front of his pants.

Garrett tried his hardest to keep his thoughts ambiguous, focusing on the feeling rather than anything specific. Strong arms holding him, a wide hand moving against him. A generic Man making him feel good. Chris Evans, maybe. A guy he went on a few dates with months ago who he never made it this far with but still wished he had. A bartender in New Orleans who’d confidently called him sexy and dragged his fingers across Garrett’s as he handed him drinks. Chris Evans, again.

The closer he got, the more miserably he failed. His thoughts tunneled in on the hand that had been pressed against him minutes ago until he was no longer able to stop them.

“Andrew!” he gasped, his voice shaking as hard as the rest of his body.

As he relaxed, his breath still ragged, he let his head hit the door behind him with a soft _clunk_ , not even registering the slight pain. Shame flooded through him, and he ducked his head down to brush away a tear with his shoulder.

He worked mechanically through the process of cleaning himself up, changing into new sweatpants and using this moment of weakness as an excuse to finally put in the load of laundry he’d been putting off, making a mental note to transfer it to the dryer tomorrow. He tried to focus on the tasks at hand and keep the sadness at bay.

When he finally made it back to the guest room, he saw Andrew lying there, his hand still resting in the spot where Garrett had laid. He couldn’t bring himself to get back in the bed.

He woke up on the couch a few hours later to the feeling of someone poking at his shoulder.

“Gar,” Andrew said quietly. “Hey.”

He cracked his eyes open, smiling immediately up at the man in front of him.

“Why are you on the couch?”

“Wh’time is it?” Garrett asked rather than answering.

“Like 8,” Andrew answered, then his mouth twitched into a frown. “Did I do something?”

“Huh?”

Andrew sat on the edge of the coffee table. “Did I do something that made you not want to sleep in the bed?”

Garrett almost laughed. Andrew wasn’t wrong, technically. But he couldn’t tell him that.

“No,” Garrett said. “Must’ve just fallen asleep out here.”

Andrew smiled. “Do you want breakfast?”

“Yes please.”

“Egg sandwich?”

“Yum.”

* * *

Garrett knew that everyone knew he was in love with Andrew. He wasn’t exactly a subtle person, especially not when it came to his feelings. He didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve, he wore it right in the center of his forehead, his mother had said.

More than once, when he and Andrew were giggling about something on the couch, he noticed Marianne watching them with a small smile on her face. Sometimes Garrett would catch her eye, and she’d smile wider before walking off. He tried not to read too much into it.

One night he’d received a text from Caleb that included a video of Andrew in an unfamiliar apartment, clearly drunk and terribly rapping along to the Kendrick Lamar song playing over the speakers. Instantly, Garrett regretted declining Caleb’s invitation from earlier that night, but the text he had sent along with the video made Garrett smile far too wide.

> _Garrett pls come get ur mans this is so fn embarrassing_
> 
> **Oh he’s my mans now?  
>  ** **Ur right tho that is embarrassing lol**
> 
> _Ya he’s always been ur mans  
>  Like six times he was all why didn’t Garrett come tonight  
>  So like I said  
>  Come  
>  Get  
>  Ur  
>  Mans  
>  Party’s still goin  
>  Here’s the address _

Garrett had never left his apartment faster.

Shane had always been the worst about it. On or off camera, around Andrew or not, he always had some sly comment or raised eyebrow to throw at Garrett when he was staring too much or laughing too hard or bringing Andrew up in conversation for the fiftieth time that night.

“I just don’t understand why you can’t get past a third date, Gar,” Ryland had said one night far too long ago when the three of them were out to dinner at some bougie restaurant Garrett would never have chosen on his own. “You’re sweet, you’re funny, you’re tall, you’re handsome. What are you doing wrong?”

Ryland had laughed when he said it, and Garrett knew it wasn’t meant to hurt him. But it did.

“The _problem_ is he’s too hung up on Andrew to give anyone _else_ a real chance,” Shane said much too loudly around the straw in his mouth that was currently funneling his third vodka tonic down his throat.

“Shane,” Garrett hissed, looking around self-consciously.

“Come on, Shane,” Ryland said. “No he’s not. Right, Garrett?”

Garrett didn’t answer.

“Oh, shit,” Ryland said softly. “Wait, are you?”

“Totally,” Shane slurred. “Didn’t you see him the other night with Megan? He was so jealous we might have to just edit him out of the video.”

Garrett looked down at his plate, which was already empty, unlike the other two on the table.

“Garrett,” Ryland said simply, reaching across the table to grab his hand.

He shrugged. “It’s whatever.”

“It’s not whatever,” Ryland said, and Garrett looked up to meet his eyes. “That sucks. I’m sorry.”

“Thanks,” Garrett mumbled, taken aback by the sweetness in his voice. They spent so much time together in front of a lens, he sometimes forgot how different his friend was when he was just Ryland, not YouTuber Ryland Adams.

“Maybe you’ll meet someone you like more soon!” Ryland continued, pulling his hand back. “There’s a lot of guys in LA. We could even try to find you another ginger.”

Garrett laughed once. He knew that wasn’t likely, but he still said, “Thanks, Ry.”

Flash forward, and his friends’ lives had greatly improved while his had stayed mostly the same. Shane and Ryland were engaged now, and in a new house, happier than they’d ever been. Garrett had… bought real sheets for his mattress, and that was really only because a guy he’d brought home had laughed and left immediately, saying he could “never fuck someone who can’t even afford sheets.”

“So, I’m throwing my own Coachella,” Morgan’s voice had said, crackling through his phone.

“Just, like, for fun?” Garrett asked.

She laughed. “It’s for a video. But yeah, also for fun.”

“Sounds cool, Morg.”

“I hope so. It’s gonna be at Shane’s. Ricky’s gonna sing, Hunter’s gonna film, some of my other friends are coming. I texted Tana and asked Shane to ask Jeffree but who knows with either of them.” She paused. “I’d really love for you to be there, too.”

Garrett looked at himself in the mirror. He hadn’t been on camera in so long, he wasn’t sure if he wanted anyone to see him.

“Please,” Morgan said when he didn’t reply, drawing the word out.

“I don’t know,” Garrett mumbled.

“Gar, come on. I’m sure you look great, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He laughed quietly. Morgan was much more perceptive than people gave her credit for.

“I really don’t, but thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“There will be lots of booze and lots of snacks and I’ll make sure to be a total idiot so no one who watches the video looks at you at all.”

“Go on.”

“And I’ll tell Hunter to only film you from the shoulders up.”

“Okay, you’re really winning me over here.”

“Andrew’s gonna be there, too. And since he’s not filming you can actually hang out with him.”

Garrett hated that his heart skipped a beat, and that she knew that that’s what would finally convince him.

“Oh, well if Andrew’s going then I have to go,” he said, trying to make it sound like a joke but coming across much too sincere.

“Is that a yes?” Morgan asked.

He looked in the mirror again, then sighed. “Okay.”

“Just okay?”

“Yes,” Garrett amended. “I’d love to come to Morgchella.”

“Yay!” she said, and Garrett couldn’t help but smile. “Thank you so much, Garrett! Everyone’s gonna be so excited to see you.”

“I’m excited too,” he said, and he actually was.

“We’re filming next week. I’ll text you the details.”

“Cool.”

“I’m so excited!” she said again, and Garrett laughed.

* * *

He’d seen the speculation from the fans. Much more than he was willing to admit. He’d seen tweets, he’d seen Instagram posts, he’d seen compilations on YouTube of he and Andrew being cute, he’d seen the fanfiction. He’d seen his own words about wanting to fall in love atop the Queen Mary countless times. He’d seen just how often he used the word handsome to describe his friend. He’d seen the comments about how it was so obvious that Garrett was in love, and how sad it was that Andrew was straight.

But he’d also seen comments that Andrew loved him back. That it was so clear in the way Andrew was looking at him, in the way Andrew acted. That maybe Andrew was secretly gay or bi. That maybe they were already secretly together.

Garrett, however, knew Andrew better than anyone on the internet. Possibly better than anyone at all. And he knew Andrew wasn’t secretly his boyfriend, gay or pining for him. No matter how many comments he read, or how many times he would look back at pictures and videos, searching for something in Andrew’s eyes. He knew the truth was that they were, sadly, just friends.

However, there were moments when Garrett wondered if maybe, just maybe, Andrew felt the same way. Or, if not the same way, felt _something_.

There was a time not too long after they’d first met, when Garrett had first suspected something.

He was at a bar, waiting to meet a guy from Tinder. Garrett didn’t think he’d like the guy much, but had decided to come anyway. He was a model, or at least claimed to be in his bio. Garrett had mostly swiped just to see if someone that handsome had been interested in him, and was shocked when Tinder informed him: It’s A Match! But they were supposed to have met 30 minutes ago, and Garrett was still sitting alone at a high top table toward the back, nursing a whiskey and checking his phone.

He was about to give up and go home when he looked up from his phone and saw his date standing in front of the table.

“Oh, Liam, hey!” Garrett said, awkwardly standing up. “I’m, uh, I’m Garrett!”

“Oh, I know,” Liam said, and Garrett almost winced at his tone of voice. “You’re a lot… bigger than your pictures.”

Garrett tried to smile. “I’m pretty sure I put 6’4” in my bio.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

He felt like the wind had been knocked out of him.

“Well, uh, do you want to take a seat?” he asked, incapable of being rude to this man he’d just met despite how rudely he was being treated. “I can go grab us a round.”

Liam paused. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Excuse me?”

“I think I’m just gonna go.”

“You’re gonna…”

“Yeah,” Liam replied. “Don’t… Don’t text me, okay?”

“Uh, okay,” Garrett said weakly, completely dumbfounded.

Without another word, Liam walked off, and Garrett sat back down. He felt like he couldn’t move.

“Garrett!” a familiar voice yelled after an indeterminate amount of time. “Garrett Watts!”

He turned to see the very cute friend of a friend he’d only hung out with a few times but couldn’t seem to stop thinking about stumbling toward him with a bright and bleary smile on his face. “Andrew?”

“Hey, man!” Andrew slurred, clearly very drunk as he put a hand on Garrett’s shoulder. “Nice to see you again.”

Garrett smiled. “You too.”

“How are you?”

There was something in the way Andrew asked that made Garrett want to be honest with him. “Uh, not great.”

Andrew frowned, then sat down across from Garrett, suddenly looking very serious. “What’s wrong?”

Garrett took a deep breath and explained what had transpired, while Andrew looked rapt, listening to every word he said.

“Fuck that guy!” Andrew yelled when Garrett finished his story. “Seriously, dude, _fuck_ that guy! If he was still here, I’d kick his ass myself!”

Garrett laughed. “Thanks, Andrew.”

“Fuck, that makes me so mad,” Andrew spat. “Fuck him.”

“It’s really not that big of a deal,” Garrett said. “Don’t hurt yourself over there.”

“It is a big deal!” Andrew exclaimed. “You’re, like, _so_ cool, man. At Caleb’s party the other night, when I was driving over I was like, ‘Man, I hope that Garrett guy’s gonna be there.’ Fuck whatshisname for not even giving you a chance.”

Garrett couldn’t help but smile. “You were hoping I’d be at Caleb’s?”

“Absolutely.”

This was, of course, before Garrett knew how painfully honest Andrew got when he was drinking. He’d since discovered that a shot of tequila was essentially truth serum, which was something he was careful to never take advantage of. But tonight, he was simply sitting across from his very drunk and very new friend, stunned to find that Andrew seemed to like him as much as he liked Andrew.

“Well, that’s cool, because I was hoping you’d be there too,” Garrett said.

“He’s wrong, too, you know,” Andrew continued, as if Garrett hadn’t said anything. “You’re not ugly.”

“Oh,” Garrett said, wondering exactly how he should take that.

“You’re actually… You’re beautiful.”

Garrett’s breath caught. “What?”

“You’re beautiful,” Andrew repeated, his glassy eyes shining bright as he locked them on Garrett. “Like, you as a person but also your face.”

The eye contact was too much. He looked down at the table and saw Andrew’s hand resting there, palm up, looking more enticing than any hand should. Garrett wasn’t sure if Andrew was flirting with him, but he was sure about how he could be sure.

He brought his own hand up from his lap and started to reach across the table to take the other man’s hand.

“Drew! There you are, babe!” came a woman’s voice from behind them, and Garrett froze.

“Gabbie,” Andrew said, looking over Garrett’s shoulder as she approached. “Hey, baby.”

“I’ve been looking all over for you!” she said, moving to stand behind him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned her head on his shoulder. “Who’s this?”

“This is my buddy Garrett,” Andrew said. “Remember, I told you about him.”

“Oh, right.”

“Garrett, this is Gabbie, my, uh–” Andrew paused.

“Girlfriend,” Gabbie supplied after a moment, then unwrapped one arm from around Andrew’s neck to reach across the table and shake Garrett’s hand. “Hi. Gabbie. Girlfriend.”

“Hey. Garrett,” he said, his wide hand enveloping hers. “Uh, buddy, apparently.”

They both laughed, and Garrett tried his hardest to keep his heart from shattering.

A few years, a breakup, a string of unsuccessful first dates, and thousands of conversations later, Garrett and Andrew stood next to each other in Shane’s kitchen while Morgan poured them all drinks. She looked extremely cute, Garrett thought, with stars stamped on her face and a cropped tee making up her at home Coachella ensemble. Suddenly, his phone rang, interrupting what Andrew had been saying to him.

He looked down at the screen and saw that it was his current… person. They’d been on six dates so far, which was a record for Garrett, and had their seventh scheduled for tonight. So why, Garrett wondered, did seeing who was calling fill him with a sense of dread? And why did Andrew seem to tense up next to him when he saw the man’s name on his screen?

“Who is that?” Morgan asked.

“I don’t know!” Garrett enthused, shooting a glance at the camera. “Ooh, exciting! Suspense? I don’t know, I’m gonna take it.”

As he walked off, he heard Morgan say, presumably to the camera, “A date, perhaps?”

“Hello?” Garrett said into the phone, stalking off to the living room away from the noise.

“Hey!” A pause. “So, I have to cancel tonight.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. This girl I’m seeing got us tickets to a concert tonight and I really want to go to that, so.”

Garrett frowned. “You’re seeing someone else?”

“Uh, yeah. It’s not like we’re exclusive, right?”

“Right,” Garrett said a moment too late, and he felt so stupid for thinking that maybe things would work out this time. “Yeah, sorry. What band are you seeing?”

“I don’t know, some local band she likes.”

 _So a band you don’t even know is more important than me?_ he thought.

“Cool,” he said. “Have fun, I guess.”

“Thanks! I’ll text you, we’ll hang out next week, okay?”

“Okay,” Garrett said, already knowing he wouldn’t answer that text. “Bye.”

The line was already dead.

“Goddamnit,” he whispered to himself, then finished the drink he was still holding and sat down on the couch. He put his head in his hands, hoping that no one would walk in so he wouldn’t have to explain himself. He fought back tears, not necessarily over the guy, but over his own stupidity at thinking that maybe, for once, something would go right for him romantically.

Eventually he made his way back to the kitchen. He was happy to see that the party had mostly migrated to the backyard, except for Andrew, who was pouring more tequila into his cup.

“Who was that?” Andrew asked, his voice harsher than Garrett expected.

Garrett looked around, making sure Hunter wasn’t around with the camera. “A guy I’m kind of seeing.”

“What’d he want?”

Although he was usually incapable of lying to Andrew, the truth felt much too pathetic, so instead, he said, “We have a date tonight, he was just confirming.”

“Ah,” Andrew said simply, then took a long drink from the cup in his hand. “Should we go outside?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

They walked out to the deck in a strangely tense silence, and Garrett wondered if Andrew was… jealous? That was ridiculous, Garrett knew. Andrew was probably just upset about something else. But he’d been in a good mood before, and he doubted something else could’ve happened in the few minutes he was away from the party to shift his mood this drastically.

He wanted to tell Andrew the truth. That the guy he was seeing had stood him up, and that he didn’t have much intention of seeing the guy again. That he didn’t like him nearly as much as he liked Andrew. But another part of him was excited by the possibility of Andrew being jealous at the idea of Garrett being with someone else, so he kept quiet.

When they joined everyone around the pool, Garrett noticed that Andrew had already finished his drink when the other man beelined to the small bar Morgan had set up and poured even more straight tequila into his cup. Garrett smiled.

Throughout the day, Andrew got progressively more drunk. He wasn’t usually like this, especially in the daytime, and Garrett was getting slightly concerned. But he also noticed how hard Andrew clung to him. They always tended to gravitate toward each other in a crowd, but it was somehow worse today. Every time Garrett moved, Andrew moved too. He laughed too hard at anything Garrett said. He seemed to keep a hand on Garrett as much as he could. It was… thrilling.

Later that night, Garrett stood in Shane’s driveway waiting for his Uber. Andrew was, of course, by his side. They were silent, but in a way that was companionable. Just two people wanting to be near each other.

“So where are you going?”

“Huh?”

“On your _date_ ,” Andrew said, the word dripping with vitriol.

Garrett couldn’t lie anymore. “Oh, he, uh. He texted me and cancelled to go out with someone else he’s seeing.”

Andrew smiled seemingly involuntarily, then instantly tried to rearrange his face into a more neutral expression before saying, “I’m sorry.”

Garrett shrugged. “Same shit, different guy. I’m used to it at this point.”

Andrew looked down at his cup and sloshed around the last dregs of tequila. Rather than taking a sip, he held the cup with two fingers and let it tip forward, darkening the pavement below them. Then he looked up at Garrett, his eyes blazing behind the drunken stupor.

“Do you want to come to my place?” he asked.

Garrett stared down at him. It wasn’t an uncommon question for one of them to ask the other, but something felt different this time. Maybe it was all the alcohol, maybe it was how Andrew had been zeroed in on him all day, maybe it was the sadness at the idea of going home alone again, but Garrett wanted nothing more than to lean down and kiss Andrew.

 _Don’t_ , the voice in his head said, just like it did every time this thought crossed his mind. _It’ll ruin everything._

The two men still hadn’t broken eye contact. And then Andrew’s eyes fell to Garrett’s lips for a moment too long before looking back up.

 _What if it doesn’t ruin everything?_ Garrett thought back to himself, and the usually rational voice in his head had nothing to say.

“Andrew,” Garrett whispered, because what else could he say, as he leaned infinitesimally closer.

“There you guys are!” Ryland’s voice came from the front door, and both men immediately took a step back from each other. “What are you doing out here?”

Garrett’s head was swimming as he tried to formulate a response, and Andrew seemed just as dazed.

“Uh, you guys okay?”

“Yeah,” Garrett said. “Yeah, sorry. I’m waiting for my Uber.”

Ryland frowned. “You’re leaving?”

“Yeah,” Garrett said again.

“You sure?” Ryland asked. “I know the party’s kinda winding down, but you can crash here if you want.”

Garrett shook his head. “Thanks, but I’d rather head home. I have stuff to do tomorrow.”

“Andrew?” Ryland asked.

He looked up at Garrett, eyes still glazed over, sadness tugging at the edges of them.

“You stay,” Garrett said. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Andrew nodded, then reached up and put a hand on the side of Garrett’s face. He didn’t say anything, but somehow he didn’t need to. Garrett leaned into the touch, grinning down at him.

When Andrew dropped his hand and walked back toward the house, Garrett dared to look at Ryland. His face was twisted into a mask of confusion.

“What the hell was that?” he asked simply.

Garrett let out a shaky breath. “Fuck if I know.”

Ryland looked over his shoulder then back at Garrett. “Are you guys…?”

“No,” Garrett said. “He’s straight, Ry.”

“Didn’t seem very straight to me just now,” Ryland said with a shrug.

Garrett couldn’t refute it.

“Do you want me to talk to him?” Ryland asked.

“No!” Garrett answered immediately. He loved Ryland, but that would only make things worse. “Please don’t.”

“Okay, I won’t,” Ryland said. “But do you still…?”

“Yeah. I do. So much.”

Ryland smiled. “Well. Maybe that’ll work out for you sooner than you think.”

Garrett didn’t say anything as he watched his friend bounce back toward his house.

The moment he got home and was alone once again, he regretted not taking Andrew up on his offer. But no, he thought, it wasn’t the right time. If anything were going to happen between him and Andrew – which, now that he was more sober and away from the man himself, seemed like an utterly unreachable outcome once again – Garrett wanted it to be genuine. Not fueled by alcohol and jealousy.

As he laid in bed trying to fall asleep, all he could think about was the feeling of Andrew’s hand against his cheek.

* * *

“Egg sandwich,” Andrew announced, putting a plate down in front of Garrett. “Bon appétit.”

“Thanks,” Garrett said, his eyes following Andrew’s face as he sat down at the small table with his own sandwich.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, and Garrett felt the shame from the night before melt away in Andrew’s always calming presence.

“So,” Andrew started. “What are we doing in quarantine today?”

Garrett shrugged. “I dunno. What do you want to do?”

“We could watch another Marvel movie. We’re getting close to Infinity War, right?”

Garrett lit up. “Yes we are! If we watch two more today then we’ll only have one more until we hit that one.”

Andrew laughed at the convoluted math. “Then two it is! Which two?”

“Hang on,” Garrett said, pulling out his phone and pulling up the checklist he’d made. “Ooh, fun! Today would be Spider-Man Homecoming and Thor: Ragnarok.”

“And those are good ones?”

Garrett leveled a glare at him. “They’re all good, Andrew.”

“Eh,” Andrew said, shaking his head a bit. “The Guardians of the Galaxies weren’t my favorite.”

“Yeah, but Chris Pratt,” Garrett argued.

“True,” Andrew said. “And the cute bug girl.”

“Mantis,” Garrett said instantly.

“Mantis,” Andrew repeated. “Love her.”

Garrett tried not to frown at yet another reminder that he wasn’t Andrew’s type. “She’s great,” he agreed.

“Maybe we can even knock out three,” Andrew suggested. “I’m excited to see Infinity War in context and not because you dragged me to see it in theatres.”

“I did not _drag_ you!” Garrett said indignantly. “You offered to come!”

“Only because it was the seventh time you were going to see it and you’d exhausted everyone else who wanted to go with you.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t have to.”

“No. But I wanted to.”

“Because you wanted to know what the fuck I was talking about when I texted you about it at 4AM?”

Andrew laughed. “Well, yeah. But also because I knew it would make you happy.”

“Well, it did,” Garrett said with a smile, then popped the last of his sandwich in his mouth to avoid saying anything else.

“You wanna start the first one now?” Andrew asked after finishing his sandwich too. “I’m down to watch Tom Holland get bitten by a radioactive spider.”

Garrett couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “He doesn’t get bit by a spider in these ones.”

“He doesn’t?”

“No, Andrew. He was in Civil War, remember? No spiders in that movie.”

“Oh, right. I forgot.”

“Are you even paying attention?” Garrett snapped, the harshness in his tone joking, but a tiny bit serious.

“I am, I promise!” Andrew insisted as they walked back toward the guest room that held their shared TV. “We’ve watched like a decade of movies in the last week, Gar. I’m a little fuzzy on all the minutiae.”

“Understandable,” Garrett conceded.

“Plus, why would I pay attention when I’ve got my own personal Marvel wiki to answer any of my questions?”

“Okay, you’re right,” Garrett said, grabbing the remote as they both settled down on their bed. “I know everything about every Marvel movie ever made and you’re, like, a hugely successful documentarian with a real career who knows about important things. Checkmate!”

Andrew laughed, and just like it always did, Garrett’s heart fluttered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tbc soon. i have a lot of free time now but also a lot of anxiety and very little motivation. but i am going to write more, i promise.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What Andrew had expected, as any rational person would expect, was a fun, two week vacation with one of his favorite people to spend time with. It was an impulsive, probably a bit irresponsible decision, but as he’d thought to himself as he hung up with Garrett, what’s the worst that could happen? He’d since discovered that the worst that could happen was precisely four fun days in Spokane before the fucking world ended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> andrew's turn.

Andrew Siwicki was losing his fucking mind. Or at least, that’s how it felt most of the time.

Two months ago, he’d been sleeping soundly with his phone on Do Not Disturb, as it always was when he slept. Suddenly he was startled awake by the ringtone he had set for the only person who’d ever call him during normal sleeping hours outside of an emergency. He knew taking Garrett’s number out of his favorites would eliminate future disturbances, but he couldn’t do it.

He groped for his phone on the bed next to him and half-opened his eyes to see Garrett’s grinning face on his screen. He also saw that the clock read 4:53AM, and he knew Garrett wasn’t just waking up. Reluctantly, he pressed accept.

In lieu of an actual greeting, Andrew grunted into the speaker.

“Hey, Andrew!”

“Hi,” Andrew replied, his voice still muffled by his pillow as he closed his eyes again.

“What are you doing for the next two weeks?”

Andrew couldn’t help but laugh at the question.

“What?” Garrett asked.

“You’re just…” Andrew started, still giggling a bit. “You’re the only person on Earth who would call someone at 5AM and ask them what they’re doing for the next _two weeks_.”

“Oh, shit, is it 5AM?” Garrett asked, laughing as well. “Sorry, Andrew.”

“It’s fine,” Andrew said automatically, and it was, since it was Garrett. “To answer your question, I have no idea.”

“Do you wanna come to Spokane with me?”

Andrew opened his eyes. “Huh?”

“I’m gonna go up to Spokane for a couple weeks,” Garrett said. “Hang out with my sister and some friends up there. I need to get away from LA for a bit.”

“Weren’t you just in New Orleans with your family?”

“Yeah,” Garrett said, and Andrew could hear apprehension in his voice. “But it wasn’t long enough.”

Andrew didn’t reply, still trying to wake his brain up enough to process this conversation.

“I already have an Airbnb booked,” Garrett continued. “It’s a little cottage, and I didn’t realize until after I booked it that it’s two bedrooms. I figured I might as well find someone to fill the second one, and who better than my boy?”

“Well, thanks,” Andrew said with a soft laugh. “Can I answer you when the sun is up, though? I want to check with Shane and make sure he doesn’t need me for anything.”

Garrett paused. “I mean, yeah, I guess. But our flight leaves at 1PM.”

“What do you mean _our_ flight?”

Another pause. “I might’ve already bought you a ticket on my same flight and it might leave at 1PM today.”

“Jesus, Garrett,” Andrew said, laughing again.

“I’m sorry!” Garrett said, his voice shooting up an octave. “You know how I get!”

Andrew did know, maybe better than anyone, the consequences of Garrett’s late night bursts of manic impulsivity. Sometimes they were good, sometimes they very much were not. Andrew still wasn’t sure on which side of the fence this decision fell.

“It’s just a couple weeks,” Garrett said. “Shane can handle that on his own if he did have plans. After the year you had, I think you could use a break from LA too.”

Garrett was right. As scatterbrained as he could be about himself, he somehow seemed to always be a step ahead of Andrew’s own thoughts.

Before he could second guess himself, Andrew said, “Okay.”

“Okay?” Garrett repeated, and Andrew could hear the grin on his face.

“Okay,” he said again. “But you’re letting me pay you back for the plane ticket.”

“Well, if you insist, I _guess_ you can pay me back, sure.”

Andrew laughed again.

What Andrew had expected after that phone call, as any rational person would expect, was a fun, two week vacation with one of his favorite people to spend time with. They’d hang out with Garrett’s sister, who Andrew thought was so similar to Garrett that it was almost scary, Andrew could finally meet the friends Garrett had in Washington that he heard about every so often, and he could have a few weeks away from the cutthroat world of lipstick and eyeshadow that still dominated a frustrating majority of his thoughts. It was an impulsive, probably a bit irresponsible decision, but as he’d thought to himself as he hung up with Garrett, what’s the worst that could happen?

He’d since discovered that the worst that could happen was precisely four fun days in Spokane before the fucking world ended. Seemingly overnight, everything shifted. Then their Airbnb stay was up and couldn’t be extended, and getting on a plane home wasn’t safe, so Andrew somehow found himself on Marianne’s guest bed – since Garrett had insisted on taking the couch despite being significantly longer than it – trying to keep his anxiety at bay and finally answering the string of texts Shane had sent him hours ago.

> _Hey u guys ok??  
>  Ur flight home was supposed to be today right?  
>  Are u gonna take it?  
>  Or can you extend ur airbnb?  
>  Andrew pls I’m so worried that ur on a plane getting infected rn  
>  Or that it crashed or something  
>  Don’t die I need u  
>  Ry told me to stop texting u so I’m gonna  
>  But I love u I hope u and Garrett are alive  
>  Ok bye  
>  Don’t die_
> 
> **Hey sorry crazy day  
>  Still alive!!!!!  
>  We’re staying in Spokane for now  
>  At G’s sister’s place**
> 
>   
>  _Ok good! I was worried_
> 
> **Yeah I got that haha**
> 
>   
>  _Well I’m glad u figured everything out!! I was so worried  
>  I said that already  
>  Anyway  
>  _ _U think u could help me edit if I send u some footage? I have an idea for glossin_
> 
> **Yeah of course  
>  I have my laptop  
>  ** **What’s the idea?**
> 
> _Remember all that stupid champion walmart stuff we shot_
> 
> **Oh my god Shane**
> 
> _I think it’ll be cool!! And funny if we make it like kind of a joke  
>  Idk maybe it’ll be dumb but I wanna try  
>  If anyone could make it cool it’s u  
>  _ _But I could do it alone if u wanna take a break_
> 
> **No I can help  
>  ** **We can make it cool together**
> 
> _Thx Andrew :,)  
>  _ _Tell Garrett I said hi too_
> 
> **Will do  
>  ** **Going to sleep now but I’ll call tomorrow**
> 
> _Hahahahaha sleep lol good one lmao_  
>  _Goodnight_
> 
> **Night!**

Almost two months later, he was still lying in that same bed, attempting to fall asleep knowing that Garrett would soon be crawling in next to him. Which, of course, was his own doing from when he’d invited Garrett to share the bed with him, figuring they would be back home much sooner than later. Garrett had agreed almost instantly, followed by a familiar sheepish smile, and Andrew felt a bit guilty.

He knew damn well Garrett felt… _something_ for him. Whether that was love, lust, or a silly crush, he wasn’t sure. But over the years, Andrew had seen how Garrett acted around his platonic friends, and seen how he acted around people romantically, and it was painstakingly obvious to Andrew which category he fell into.

For the most part, Andrew tried to ignore it. When Garrett’s compliments would veer into too sincere and Andrew would see blush color his friend’s cheeks, he’d change the subject or lighten the mood. When he’d catch Garrett looking at him when he didn’t think Andrew could see, he’d pretend not to notice. When Garrett would stare into his eyes, the gaze so intense and so full of love that it made Andrew want to cry, he’d try his hardest to keep his face as neutral and friendly as possible.

Andrew knew how hard it was to love someone who would never love you back, and he didn’t want to make Garrett’s life any harder than it already was. Because Andrew _did_ love him, more than any other friend he had. He loved Garrett’s undying loyalty, his infectious joy, his bizarre sense of humor, his uncanny ability to perceive the emotions of everyone around him, and his warm hugs that lasted far too long but always felt right.

He just didn’t love Garrett the same way Garrett loved him.

...Right?

If he was honest with himself, there were times when Andrew questioned his own feelings.

The most glaringly obvious thing was that Andrew was physically incapable of saying no to Garrett. More specifically, he was incapable of saying anything other than yes, immediately, at any time of the day, with no conditions, regardless of other plans. It was how he’d ended up at a CVS with Garrett trying to scrounge up a dinner while their other friends were hanging out with Post Malone. It was how he’d ended up in the garden section of a Home Depot trying to talk Garrett out of the ridiculous purchases he was making. It was how he’d ended up in a studio at 3AM rapping about packing apple slices in a tiny Louis Vuitton bag. It was how he’d ended up on countless late-night runs to Taco Bell, or seeing movies he had no interest in multiple times, or listening to whatever obscure new artist Garrett was obsessed with but that Andrew didn’t enjoy much while they drove to wherever. Most recently, it was how he’d ended up stranded a thousand miles from home in a house full of people he’d only just met in the middle of a pandemic.

There was also the calming effect Garrett always seemed to have on him. When he was on hour thirteen of editing for Shane and his brain was bogged down with anxiety and stress, he would head to the beauty room or the courtyard and call Garrett, and just hearing his friend’s familiar voice would relax him instantly.

“Distract me, please,” Andrew would say, his voice strained.

There was always a slight pause, then Garrett would say something like, “I just made dinner for the spider who’s living in my shower. I named him Cedric.”

Andrew would laugh and close his eyes while he listened to Garrett prattle on about the latest bizarre event in the string of bizarre events he called a life until he felt like he could take a deep breath again.

Although he’d never say it out loud in such blatant terms, Andrew did find Garrett attractive. He wasn’t so closed-minded and insecure that he couldn’t admit when another man was attractive, even if he wasn’t _attracted to_ them. He could objectively appreciate a strong jaw, wide shoulders, coiffed hair and a handsome face. He could casually tell his guy friends when they looked good, and confidently agree with Ryland or Morgan that yes, that male celebrity or Instagram model or random bartender is hot as hell.

But there was something about Garrett that was different. Whenever Andrew complimented him, Garrett would giggle and blush and mumble a thanks, and more than once the word “cute” had crossed Andrew’s mind. Late at night or early in the morning, Andrew would see Garrett without his glasses and be struck by how handsome his friend really was. Garrett would give him a hug, and the feeling of wide hands pressed against Andrew’s back, holding him close, would stir something deep in him. Sometimes Garrett would smile at him, and Andrew’s heart would skip a beat as he smiled back. (Andrew had found, as time progressed, that sometimes had slowly turned into every time.)

The most confusing thing was the tug of jealousy he always felt at the idea of Garrett with anyone else. Every time Jeffree made some off hand sexual joke about Garrett, a quiet rage replaced Andrew’s usual laughter. When Garrett mentioned going on a date, or some new guy he was texting, or a really cute cashier at Ralphs, Andrew would feel a small pit form in his stomach. He wasn’t jealous of the guys, he’d tell himself. He was just upset about the idea of Garrett finding someone and leaving him high and dry, alone after their years of shared singledom.

_...Right?_

These were the thoughts swirling around Andrew’s head as he stared at the ceiling, trying and failing miserably to fall asleep. They were thoughts he’d had for a long time, but was always able to bury deep. He could distract himself with countless, exhausting hours of filming and editing. He could feign plans or fatigue and leave Garrett’s company when things got too intense. He could ignore an overly sincere text for a few hours. He could lock everything in the back of his brain and just be Garrett’s friend. But then his life became All Garrett, All The Time, and everything got a lot harder to ignore.

Even _harder_ to ignore was the dream he’d had the previous night, now just a fuzzy memory of hands and lips and giggles and soft smiles. The one part of the dream he remembered with perfect clarity was Garrett’s warm hand on his cheek as he breathed out, _I love you_ , and Andrew’s own voice shaking as he returned the sentiment. It wasn’t the first time he’d had a dream like that, but it was the most difficult it had ever been to shake it off. He was both terrified and thrilled by the possibility of falling back into the same dream tonight.

Eventually, he realized, he must’ve fallen asleep, because the next thing he knew he was stirring slightly as the bed dipped next to him. Just like every night, he kept his eyes closed, clinging to sleep as Garrett settled into bed, and just like every night, he was back asleep as soon as whisper soft music began playing from Garrett’s phone.

Unlike every night, Andrew stirred again an unknown amount of time later. Garrett had gasped and shifted on the bed, which pulled Andrew from his already restless sleep. It took him a moment to realize he was on his side, and that his hand was resting somewhere on Garrett. He thought about pulling it away, but couldn’t bring himself to.

“Fuck,” Garrett breathed, and Andrew kept his eyes closed.

Then Garrett grabbed his wrist between two fingers, lifted his arm slightly and slipped out of the bed. The bedroom door’s latch clicked open, and then closed, and Andrew opened his eyes. He tried to wait for Garrett’s return, but the persistent exhaustion pulled him under before the door swung back open.

When he woke up in the morning, Garrett wasn’t next to him, and he couldn’t help but feel a bit hollow. He’d gotten so accustomed to lazing in bed while he waited for his friend to join him in the waking world, his bleary eyes and sleepy greeting signaling the real start of Andrew’s day. Between his absence and whatever had happened in the middle of the night, Andrew felt a slight panic rise in his chest.

Had he done something to upset Garrett? Was Garrett sick of being around him? Was Garrett finally realizing that Andrew wasn’t worth it? Was their friendship over? Would he have to fly back to Los Angeles later today? Had Garrett flown back in the night? Did Garrett hate him now?

 _Relax_ , he told himself, trying to access his rational thoughts and keep the anxiety at bay. _He doesn’t hate you. You’re fine. He’s still here. Go find him._

As he crawled out of bed and stretched the sleep out of his limbs, he wished that he was better at listening to his rational brain, and hated how easily it could be drowned out by the ever present anxiety that loomed in the back of his head.

He wandered out into the house only to see Garrett back on the couch, still hanging half off of it with his legs scrunched up and his arms pulled tight against his chest. Andrew couldn’t help but smile at the sight, even though he knew he was in for a full day of Garrett complaining about his back. He approached the couch slowly, and poked the sleeping man’s shoulder.

“Garrett,” he said quietly, and when he got no response, he continued with, “Gar. Hey.”

Finally, Garrett’s eyes opened, and the last bits of residual panic faded from Andrew’s chest.

“Why are you on the couch?” Andrew asked.

“Wh’time is it?” Garrett replied, rather than answering Andrew’s question.

“Like 8,” he answered, and before he could stop himself he asked, “Did I do something that made you not want to sleep in the bed?”

Garrett’s mouth pulled into a small, private smile, a smile that Andrew knew meant he wasn’t telling him something. “No. Must’ve just fallen asleep out here.”

Andrew couldn’t help but smile back. “Do you want breakfast?”

“Yes please.”

“Egg sandwich?”

“Yum.”

* * *

Andrew often wondered what their friends thought about his relationship with Garrett. Throughout the years, there had been plenty of comments. Some were genuinely curious, some were joking, some were sarcastic, some were plain mean. The only common thread was that every one of them made Andrew feel self-conscious, and wonder if he was in the wrong somehow.

“He’s alive!” Morgan exclaimed from her place on the couch as Andrew trudged down the stairs, his eyes fuzzy from a long stint of editing with Shane.

He laughed as he replied, “Barely.”

“Come sit with us,” Morgan said, patting the couch next to her at the same time Ryland asked, “Can I get you something?”

“Some water would be great,” Andrew said. “And some Oreos, if you’ve got ‘em.”

Ryland nodded and bounced off to the kitchen as Andrew sank down on the couch next to Morgan, closing his eyes before he even hit the cushions.

“You sure you’re alive?” Morgan asked, poking his shoulder playfully.

“No,” he replied, not opening his eyes.

She laughed and turned down the volume of Rosanna Pansino explaining some dish neither Adams sibling would ever get around to cooking. Andrew smiled as Morgan slowly rubbed his back, already soothed by both the feeling and her presence.

“You guys really shouldn’t work yourself this hard,” Morgan said quietly. “It can’t be healthy.”

“Oh, it’s not,” Andrew said, opening his eyes to look at her. “But it’s damn good when we finish it.”

Morgan smiled. “Hell yeah it is.”

“Here you go,” Ryland said, returning to the couch with Andrew’s request. “You’ll eat real food when you get home right?”

“No promises,” Andrew said around a mouthful of Oreos.

Ryland laughed softly. “Is Shane coming down? It’s almost 2AM, you guys have gotta be done for the night, right?”

Andrew swallowed a long sip of water and answered, “Not sure. We’re both taking this weekend off though, which is why he insisted I go home as a somewhat normal hour.”

“Normal,” Ryland said, rolling his eyes. “You guys are nuts.”

“Correct,” Andrew agreed, and they all laughed.

“What were you guys working on?” Morgan asked.

“The Sacramento meet and greet,” Andrew replied. “I was getting war flashbacks just watching the footage.”

“Can’t relate,” Ryland mumbled, clearly still bitter about being excluded from the trip, and Andrew couldn’t help but giggle a bit.

They were all quiet then, in a companionable way that made Andrew feel like he belonged, as they turned their attention back to Rosanna.

“I think I’m gonna go try to pry Shane from the computer,” Ryland said eventually, standing up from the couch. “Weekend off starts now.”

“Good luck!” Morgan and Andrew said in unison, and they all laughed again.

“So, what are your weekend off plans?” Morgan asked when they were alone.

“Not sure,” Andrew answered with a shrug. “Sleep. Eat something other than junk food. Maybe go see a movie with–”

“Garrett,” Morgan finished.

Andrew was stunned for a moment. “Uh, yeah. How’d you know.”

“How’d I _know_ ,” Morgan repeated, rolling her eyes. “Because all your stories start with Garrett.”

“No they don’t.”

“They literally do,” Morgan insisted. “You’re always all, ‘Me and Garrett did this, yesterday I was talking to Garrett, oh Garrett told me about that.’ You guys are basically a married couple.”

Andrew looked away, and noticed the empty bottle of wine and two empty glasses sitting on the table. If Andrew knew anything from experience, it’s that most of that wine was currently coursing through Morgan’s veins.

“He’d sure love if you were,” Morgan continued, then her face went blank. “I mean– Uh, shit. I wasn’t supposed to tell you that.”

“Tell me what?” Andrew asked, because feigning ignorance was always the easiest route.

“Nothing,” Morgan said quickly as she stood up. She stumbled, and Andrew put a hand against her hip to steady her. “I’m gonna go to sleep.”

“Okay,” Andrew said. “Goodnight.”

Instead of walking toward the stairs, she asked, “Would you love that?”

“What?”

“Being married to Garrett?”

Andrew laughed once and wondered whether Garrett had ever asked her to ask him this question, albeit probably in less blatant terms.

“Wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world,” Andrew replied, keeping his tone light. “Especially if the other options were fuck and kill.”

Morgan giggled. “I think I’d choose fuck.”

“Okay,” Andrew said, standing up and moving his hand to her shoulder. “Bedtime for Morgan.”

“What!” she said, still giggling. “He’s hot! I’ll say it!”

“He sure is,” Andrew asked, internally cringing a bit at how not-joking his joke had sounded, but knowing Morgan most likely wouldn’t remember the specifics of this conversation.

“Ooh, I’m gonna tell him you said that,” she cooed as Andrew steered her toward the stairs. “Gonna text him right now! Tell him you wanna marry him!”

Andrew didn’t mention that she’d left her phone on the couch.

“Goodnight,” he said again as she reluctantly went up the stairs.

As soon as she was out of sight, he headed out to his car. He sat behind the wheel for a moment, trying to determine whether he had enough mental power to drive home. As he decided that yes, he did, he was struck with an idea. He pulled out his phone and sent a text to Garrett.

> **If Morgan texts u some ridiculous shit in the next few mins pls know that she is DRUNK  
>  ** **And even sillier than usual**
> 
> _Well now u gotta tell me what it is_
> 
> **No**
> 
> _ANDREW_
> 
> **No  
>  It shall remain a mystery  
>  ** **Unless she realizes she went to bed without her phone and goes back downstairs for it**
> 
> _I’ll cross my fingers_
> 
> **I’ll cross them she doesn’t**
> 
> _Rude_  
>  _Is it a marriage proposal_

Andrew laughed at how close to correct that was.

> **Yes she wants to marry you but she’s nervous so she’s gonna ask over text**
> 
> _Well obviously my answer is yes  
>  _ _And u get to be my best man_
> 
> **An absolute honor truly**
> 
> _Hahahaha thank u  
>  I needed this tonight  
>  Love u Andrew  
>  _ _And also Morgan but I assume she’s not reading our convo_
> 
> **She’s not  
>  Love u too**

“You really shouldn’t lead him on like that,” Shane had said quietly as Andrew sat down next to him, still a bit breathless.

They were at Jeffree’s launch party for his Morphe collaboration, and Shane had given Andrew the official order to stop filming for the night, unless something “fucking crazy” started to happen. The second he was freed from the lens, Garrett had asked him to dance, and between the alcohol and the exhilaration at such an extravagant event, Andrew immediately said yes.

Garrett whisked him off to the impromptu dance floor and they bopped along together in time with the beat of a pop song Andrew didn’t recognize. It was a bit awkward at first, in a charming way, then Garrett was doing something ridiculous with his hands, and Andrew tried his hardest to match the movements through his laughter. Things quickly devolved into standing near each other, ignoring the more coordinated crowd and trying to make each other laugh with absurd movements that could barely be described as dancing.

Then Jeffree strode over, followed by three people with phones out and poised to record, and asked to cut in. Andrew couldn’t say no to him tonight, so he slunk back to their table and tried not to focus on how much he missed Garrett already.

“What do you mean?” he asked, looking over at Shane.

“You know exactly what I mean,” Shane replied.

“I really don’t.”

Shane sighed. “Did you not see the look on his face just now?”

“His face always looks like that,” Andrew said weakly.

“When you’re around, yeah.” Shane gestured toward the dance floor. “Does it look like that now?”

Andrew looked away from Shane to see Garrett twirling Jeffree under their joined hands in a move that didn’t fit the music at all but seemed so quintessentially Garrett. But his shoulders were slightly hunched, and the smile plastered on his face didn’t quite reach his eyes as he glanced between Jeffree and the cameras in front of them.

“It’s just because Jeffree’s people are filming him,” Andrew argued.

“Is it?” Shane asked. “Or is it because Jeffree’s not you?”

“What’s your fucking point, man?” Andrew countered, starting to get a bit annoyed.

“I don’t know,” Shane said. “It’s just been a while since I saw you two together. I forgot how bad it is.”

“Bad?” Andrew repeated.

“Look, can I be straight with you?” Shane said, turning in his seat to face Andrew. He smiled slightly. “Or, be bi, I guess.”

Andrew raised an eyebrow.

“It’s different for him,” Shane started. “The way he… It’s different than when you like a girl but she doesn’t like you back. I’ve been where he is, with a straight guy, and it’s the finality of it that makes it hurt so much. Knowing no matter how much he loves you, it’ll never be enough. Never the way you want it to be. There’s no chance, and it’s Hell.”

Before he could bite his tongue, the tequila in Andrew’s bloodstream made him say, “I wouldn’t say there’s _no_ chance.”

Shane’s jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

Realizing what he’d said, Andrew stood up instantly. “I have to go.”

“No, what did you just say?” Shane insisted, reaching for Andrew’s wrist to pull him back down.

Andrew pulled his hand away and repeated, “I have to go.”

“You can’t just fucking say that and then run away!” Shane yelled after him, but didn’t bother to follow as Ryland and Morgan rejoined him at the table.

Andrew wasn’t sure where he was going, but next thing he knew he was sitting on the curb on Sunset Boulevard, head in his hands, still bathed in the pink light emanating from the venue. He knew Shane had heard exactly what he’d said, and knew Shane would have questions about it later. He tried his hardest to pretend that maybe, against all odds, Shane would forget what he’d said.

“Hey,” a familiar voice said as a wide hand landed on his shoulder.

Andrew looked up as Garrett sat down next to him. “Hey.”

“You okay?” Garrett asked. “Did you and Shane have a fight or something?”

“No,” Andrew said. “Things just got a little tense. I needed fresh air.”

“What was it about?” Garrett asked.

Andrew didn’t say anything, and Garrett nodded.

“I get it,” he continued. “You guys have been spending a ton of time together. You’re bound to argue at some point.”

“ _We_ don’t argue,” Andrew mumbled.

“No, we don’t,” Garrett said. “Yet, anyway.”

Andrew laughed. “Hopefully ever.”

“No promises. We might have to argue about the MCU if you ever agree to watch all 20 movies with me.”

“If I do, I promise to respect all of your opinions and not fight you on anything.”

“Good,” Garrett said, patting Andrew’s shoulder a few times but not moving his hand away. “You wanna go back in?”

Andrew looked at his friend’s face, trying to see what Shane saw. There was a softness there, a genuine compassion for Andrew’s wellbeing. But that was just how Garrett was, Andrew knew that. Garrett was too kind for his own good, to everyone he’d ever met. If he looked harder, even in the dim light of Los Angeles at night, Andrew could see it in Garrett’s eyes.

He wondered if it still counted as leading someone on if you weren’t even sure about how you felt.

“Can we just stay out here for a little bit?” Andrew asked.

“Yeah,” Garrett answered.

“Thanks.”

Andrew frowned when Garrett pulled his hand back, but smiled wider than he had all night when Garrett slung an arm around his shoulders.

* * *

“Okay, thoughts?” Garrett asked, back in the present, as the credits rolled on Black Panther, which was their third movie of the day.

“Fuck,” Andrew said quietly.

Garrett laughed. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Andrew said again, louder. “That was so good, holy shit.”

“I know.”

“Garrett, that was _so_ good!”

“I know!”

They grinned at each other, Garrett’s infectious excitement flowing easily through Andrew.

“Can we watch another one?” Andrew asked eagerly.

Garrett paused. “Infinity War is the next one. Are you ready for that?”

“Yes,” Andrew said instantly.

“No, Andrew. I need you to be ready. Are you _ready_ ready?”

He thought for a moment. “Can we make popcorn first?”

“Oh, we need so much of it,” Garrett said, springing out of the bed faster than Andrew had ever seen him get out of a bed. “Come on. Let’s go make it, and then it’s time.”

“Time for the War,” Andrew agreed, standing up as well.

“Infinity War,” Garrett said. “We refer to it by its full title. It’s a respect thing.”

Andrew giggled. “Infinity War. I’m sorry, sir.”

“Forgiven,” Garrett said. “Now come on. The sooner we get popcorn made, the sooner we start the movie.”

“Aye aye,” Andrew replied, following his friend to the kitchen, and trying to shake the sudden urge he felt to grab Garrett’s hand as they walked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i promise the next chapter will have 100% less meandering nonlinear exposition and actually move the present day plot forward. i promise. i’m just a sucker for navel gazing and using fic to process my own feelings.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things had been different with Andrew in Spokane. Maybe it was the forced intimacy of sharing a bedroom for so long, but it felt to Garrett like a barrier he hadn’t known was there had dropped. They both sat a little closer, smiled a little wider, and spent more time in companionable silence than they ever had before. He couldn’t help but feel like they were on a new track, despite everything in the rational part of his brain telling him they weren’t, and that he was just idealizing, like he always did. But the thought of that barrier going back up, and the reality of not getting to start and end every day with Andrew, had threatened to overwhelm him since they’d made the decision to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y’all. i know this update took a little bit, and i’m sure most of you can guess why. living in america, the last week or so has been deeply upsetting, and on top of that working from home has gotten very demanding, so it’s been hard to focus on anything else. but i needed to escape and write in this world to give my mental health a break from the barrage of bad news and horrifying injustice. and since you’re here, i’m sure you’d like the escape too from whatever it is that’s ailing you.
> 
> writing a fic set in present day america – specifically spokane and los angeles – is weird right now. especially since it’s a fic tangentially related to current events. i was initially planning on continuing the events of this fic into the next couple months, but that doesn’t feel appropriate anymore since i’m not going to write about a literal revolution in this silly fanfic but also couldn’t write around it. but so far i imagine non-flashback parts of this fic have occurred somewhere in the first week of may, and the events of the next chapters (probably only one more after this) will take place within a couple weeks of that.
> 
> black lives matter, always and unequivocally. if reading that here upsets you, please don’t read the rest of this fic.
> 
> on a lighter note before we start things off, if you haven’t seen avengers endgame and want to know what our boys are gonna be talking about in a second, [click here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fP2w_UAK6B4). (endgame spoilers in the video obviously but also vague spoilers in the first part of this chapter. but if you haven’t seen endgame at this point… come on.)

“Hey,” Andrew whispered, his voice just loud enough to reach Garrett, whose head was mere inches away on the other pillow. “You awake?”

“Yes,” Garrett whispered back, not daring to turn his head toward the man he’d thought was unconscious.

“I can’t sleep,” Andrew replied, his voice still hushed.

Garrett frowned. “Why?”

Andrew propped himself up on his elbows and looked down at Garrett, who turned to meet his eyes.

“The portals, Garrett,” Andrew said, his voice full volume now. “I can’t stop thinking about the fucking portals.”

Garrett laughed and turned his head to face Andrew. “I know. Welcome to the last year of my life.”

After finishing Infinity War earlier in the day, Andrew had immediately asked if they could watch Endgame. Garrett had, of course, obliged, and his heart swelled with every comment Andrew made about the movie.

“The hammer, man,” Andrew continued. “Cap with the hammer. I can’t get over it.”

Garrett reached out to pat Andrew’s shoulder. “Let it out, buddy.”

Andrew flopped back down onto the pillow and turned his body to face Garrett’s, so Garrett turned his as well.

“On your left,” Andrew said, his voice slipping back to a lower volume due to the proximity of their faces. “I can’t believe they did that.”

“So good, right?”

Andrew smiled, and Garrett could just barely make it out in the dim glow of the moonlight streaming through their window.

“Thank you for forcing me to watch all of those movies with you.”

“I believe watching the first one was your idea.”

“Well, yeah, but after three I second-guessed myself, and you made us continue.”

“True.”

They were quiet then, their eyes still locked, their soft breathing falling into sync. Chasing away thoughts of kissing Andrew had become second nature to Garrett at this point, but every time it became harder and harder to do.

Andrew shifted, maybe consciously or maybe unconsciously, closer to Garrett, and Garrett used all the strength he had to stay where he was.

“You really liked them?” Garrett asked, if only to do something with his mouth.

“Most of them,” Andrew said with a small grin. “Still not crazy about the Guardians.”

Garrett rolled his eyes, not wanting to have this argument again.

“Really, though,” Andrew continued. “Thanks. This was a great way to pass the time.”

“If you ever want to watch them again, I’m your guy.”

“Oh, I know,” Andrew said with a laugh, then rolled onto his other side, facing away. “Goodnight, Garrett.”

“Goodnight,” Garrett said softly, staring at the back of Andrew’s head and wishing more than anything that he hadn’t turned away.

* * *

The next week or so passed in the typical haze of quarantine, one day rolling into the next without any real discerning events to tell them apart. It was just a cycle of eat, think about kissing Andrew, Netflix, think about telling Andrew you’re in love with him, video games, laugh too hard at something Andrew said, eat, get into bed next to Andrew and try your hardest not to be laser-focused on his every movement, (attempt to) sleep, wake up, repeat.

But the worst part was, that despite the torturous feeling of being so close but never close enough, Garrett could’ve done this every day for forever and been satisfied.

* * *

Marianne knocked lightly on the doorframe of the guest room, and Garrett looked up from his phone.

“Hey,” she said. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” Garrett replied, pulling out his headphones. “What’s up?”

She closed the door behind her and walked to the bed, perching on the edge when Garrett shuffled over.

“Garrett,” she said, and he didn’t like how serious her tone of voice was. “I need to talk to you.”

“Okay,” he replied, drawing out the vowel sounds.

“You know I love you, right?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“And you know I love having you here?”

“So you’ve said.”

“And I meant it.” She took a deep breath. “But I need you the _fuck_ out of my house.”

Garrett’s heart sank to his feet. “What?”

“I need you guys out of here,” she repeated. “It’s too much, Garrett. You’ve been here for like a month and a half now. And it’s been great, it really has. But there’s just not enough room in this house for six of us.”

“So you’re kicking me out while I’m a thousand miles from home, in the middle of an actual pandemic?”

She grimaced. “Well, when you put it like that, I kind of sound like an asshole.”

“You’re kind of being an asshole!” Garrett snapped back, then instantly regretted the harsh tone.

She frowned. “It’s just too much, Gar. You guys have been sharing a bathroom with my kids for almost two months now. We need our space back.”

“Where are we supposed to go?”

“Home.”

Garrett balked. “And how do we get there? We can’t fly right now!”

“You could drive,” she retorted. “Rent a car.”

“That would take, like, _days_.”

“It’s actually only about 19 hours.” She looked down, then back at Garrett and said quietly, “I Google Mapped it.”

Something about her tone of voice and the ridiculousness of the entire situation made them both laugh, and the mood lightened significantly.

“Really, Garrett. Having you here has been fun, but it’s time. We’ve been quarantined this long and we all feel fine. You’d be perfectly safe renting a car and splitting the drive, you guys could even get an SUV and sleep in the back seat if you’re worried about staying in a hotel.”

Garrett wanted to argue with her, but he couldn’t. Everything she was saying was correct. But leaving meant losing Andrew, and that was a reality he didn’t want to face yet.

“Don’t you miss home?” she continued. “You know, like, the place you’re still paying rent on that has all the rest of your clothes? And you can’t be having a good time cooped up with Andrew in one room.”

Garrett looked away as he felt a hot blush creep across his cheeks, and Marianne sighed.

“Let me rephrase that,” she said softly. “If you stay cooped up with Andrew in one room for much longer, I’m worried it’s _actually_ going to break your heart in two.”

He couldn’t speak, so she continued.

“You’re not as subtle as you think, you know. I can see it clear as day. And I know you’re having fun playing house with him or whatever, but it’s not real, hon. It’s only going to make it harder for you when you have to separate. The longer you wait, the more it’s going to hurt.”

“I know,” he said, his voice a bit choked.

“So, rip the Band-Aid off. Throw me under the bus. Tell him your bitch sister is kicking you guys out.”

“You’re not a bitch,” Garrett said, finally managing to look back at her.

“I kind of am,” she replied with a smile. “But that’s why you love me, right?”

He grinned. “Right. You’re right. We’ll go home. We’ve _way_ overstayed our welcome.”

“Thank you,” she said, then hesitated. “And, when this craziness is all over, really try to find someone, okay? I want you to be happy, Garrett. But Andrew’s not going to be the one who makes you happy. Not the way you want.”

He didn’t know how to respond to that, so he just nodded. She patted his hand, then stood up and left the room.

Rather than disturbing Andrew where he was working on the back deck, Garrett sent him a text.

> **Hey u almost done with whatever ur working on**
> 
> _Yeah probably be done in like an hour  
>  _ _Why is it dinner already_
> 
> **Lol no  
>  But if ur hungry I can make u food  
>  ** **I just need to talk to u and didn’t want to come bother u**
> 
> _I’m good on food  
>  Everything ok? _

Garrett frowned. The thought of separating from Andrew, each going back to their homes and not seeing each other again for who knows how long, had him the farthest he’d been from okay since this had all started.

> **Everything’s ok  
>  ** **We can talk later**
> 
> _Ok  
>  _ _Now shush I am trying to work_
> 
> **Do u wanna talk about Endgame more**
> 
> _GARRETT I SAID I AM TRYING TO WORK_
> 
> **Remember the hammer**
> 
> _Blocked_
> 
> **:)**

* * *

Andrew bit his lip nervously as he walked back to the guest room, his still-warm and overworked laptop clutched to his chest. Garrett had assured him that everything was okay, but in his personal experience, “I need to talk to you” texts rarely lead to a conversation that was good. But it was Garrett who had texted him, and nothing had happened between them, so the conversation would be fine.

Unless the conversation was about how nothing had happened between them, and Andrew wasn’t sure if he was ready for that kind of confrontation yet.

“Hey,” Garrett said, as Andrew walked into the room. “You okay?”

“Hey. Yeah, I’m good. Why?”

“You have that look on your face you get when you’ve been thinking too hard.”

Andrew laughed. “Unfortunately, Garrett, editing requires a lot of thinking.”

“Oh, believe me, I know,” Garrett said with a laugh, scooting over on the bed so Andrew could sit on his side. “But that’s not the kind of thinking I meant.”

“What did you want to talk about?” Andrew asked, changing the subject as he settled back against the headboard next to Garrett.

He looked down, and picked at a loose thread on his pants for a moment, which shot Andrew’s anxiety through the roof.

“Marianne is kicking us out,” Garrett finally said. “She wants us to go back to LA.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Garrett continued. “I talked with her before I texted you, and she’s right. We’ve been here way too long. They need their house back. If we rent a car and drive down, we can do it in, like, two days if we split it.”

Andrew felt his stomach tying in knots. He wanted to counter and say they couldn’t leave, but how could he? It was Marianne’s house, and she was Garrett’s sister, and they had most definitely stayed longer than any of them had planned for. The only thing he could do was agree.

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right, we should leave. When does she want us out?”

Garrett laughed a bit. “She didn’t, like, give me a countdown, Andrew. But I think we should get out of here tomorrow or the next day. I already looked into car rentals, it wouldn't be too expensive. We can look together and hammer out the details.”

“Okay,” Andrew said weakly, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

“Okay,” Garrett repeated, then he stood up from the bed. “I’m gonna go let Marianne know and see if she needs help with dinner. And I guess later, we’ll… start packing.”

Andrew just nodded, and neither of their parting smiles as Garrett left the room quite reached their eyes.

He didn’t know why the thought of not living with Garrett anymore had the threat of tears stinging behind his eyes. He couldn’t explain to himself why the thought of waking up in his own bed, alone, just a few days from now made him want to never sleep again. He couldn’t figure out why he had the urge to suggest finding a place to stay in Spokane rather than driving home, even though that made less than zero sense.

Except, he did know. And he could explain it to himself. And he could figure it out, extremely easily. He’d figured it out a long time ago. He just didn’t want to admit it, because of how much things would change.

But maybe, he thought, after so many days of the same thing, it was time for a little change.

* * *

“Now I feel kind of bad,” Marianne said, slowing her car to a stop at a traffic light. She looked over at Garrett, who was sitting in her passenger seat. “Am I being bad?”

Garrett smiled at her. “No, you’re not. It’s time for us to go.”

“Literally,” Andrew piped up from the backseat. “Our rental pickup is right now and we’re still, what, like, 20 minutes away from the place?”

Garrett turned back to look at him. “I’m sorry! I was very busy this morning!”

Andrew laughed as the car moved forward again. “Oh, were you? Watching videos of rats and bunnies who are friends?”

“I _told_ you,” Garrett started, his voice indignant, “that I had a dream where you were a bunny and I was a rat and I had to make sure we’d still get along!”

Marianne laughed, and Garrett turned forward to look at her.

“Jesus, Andrew, how have you survived staying in one room with this weirdo for the last month and a half?” Marianne asked, looking in the rearview to meet his eyes.

“It’s no different than how he usually is,” Andrew said, his tone light. “We’ve been later for things for stupider reasons.”

They all laughed, and the drive to their rental car continued in mostly silence aside from the soft music playing on whatever Adult Contemporary station Marianne had insisted on. Garrett gazed out the window, watching the grey streets of Washington drift by and trying not to focus on how final this all felt, like it was the last day of summer camp and all the fun was over.

Things had been different with Andrew in Spokane. Maybe it was the forced intimacy of sharing a bedroom for so long, but it felt to Garrett like a barrier he hadn’t known was there had dropped. They both sat a little closer, smiled a little wider, and spent more time in companionable silence than they ever had before. He couldn’t help but feel like they were on a new track, despite everything in the rational part of his brain telling him they weren’t, and that he was just idealizing, like he always did. But the thought of that barrier going back up, and the reality of not getting to start and end every day with Andrew, had threatened to overwhelm him since they’d made the decision to leave.

Soon they were standing in the parking lot of an Enterprise, hugging Marianne goodbye and promising to text updates along the way so she knew they were safe. She apologized again, and Garrett apologized back, ensuring her that he wasn’t mad, and she was completely right.

“This will be good for you,” Marianne whispered in his ear as she pulled him in for a final hug. “Rip the Band-Aid off.”

Garrett just nodded when she pulled away, a tight smile plastered on his face.

And then he was climbing into the passenger seat of a Prius that was at least ten years newer than his own, and found himself a bit shocked when it started on the first try. Andrew laughed at his bewilderment, urging him once again to please, Garrett, just buy a new fucking car.

“No,” Garrett answered, hooking his phone up to the speakers and opening his GPS. “My car runs fine.”

“It doesn’t, though, is the thing,” Andrew argued as he clicked his seatbelt. “It literally doesn’t. No one I know has to get towed more than you.”

“It’s a fun way to meet people.”

Andrew laughed. “I think you’re spending more on towing than you would on a new car.”

Garrett rolled his eyes and put the car in drive, officially beginning their journey back to Los Angeles. “I am not. I’ll keep driving that car until it dies.”

“Oh, it’s dead, Garrett. It’s a zombie at this point.”

“But it’s _my_ zombie.”

Andrew laughed again. “Your little trash-filled zombie.”

Garrett couldn’t refute the statement.

* * *

“Do you think I should get more mice?” Garrett asked, somewhere around hour two of driving.

“No,” Andrew said immediately. “Please, no.”

Garrett glanced at him, then quickly back to the road. “Why not?”

“Because I would end up taking care of the mice again.”

“No you wouldn’t!”

Andrew laughed. “Garrett, the amount of, ‘Hey Andrew do you think you could feed my mice this weekend?’ texts you sent me last time was criminal.”

“It wasn’t that many times.”

“It was _so many_ times.”

“It’s just because you’re responsible!” Garrett said, a smile creeping across his face. “I knew the mice would be safe in your care!”

“Well, thanks, but if you get new mice they will absolutely die because I will not be taking care of them.”

“Fine,” Garrett said. “But, like, hypothetically, what should we name our mice?”

“Our mice?”

“Yeah, our. I’d make cute mouse content and you’d keep them alive.”

“Oh, of course,” Andrew drawled, then paused. “I mean, we could name one Fievel, right?”

Garrett groaned. “Jesus, Andrew, Fievel? That’s all you could come up with?”

“I don’t know!” Andrew insisted. “Fievel is a mouse!”

“So unoriginal,” Garrett replied. “If I was gonna name my mouse after another mouse I’d obviously go with Boh.”

“Boh?” Andrew asked.

“Oh my god,” Garrett mumbled. “How do I still have this much left to teach you?”

* * *

“I got snacks!” Garrett called as he emerged from the gas station just over the border of Idaho and Oregon.

“Nice!” Andrew called back, still pumping gas into the car as his friend approached. “What’d you get?”

Garrett held up three plastic bags. “Like, everything. All the snacks. I told you you should’ve come in with me. I have no impulse control.”

Andrew laughed and returned the gas nozzle to its hook, then climbed into the driver’s seat while Garrett took the opposite side.

“Okay, my turn to pick the music,” Andrew said, plugging his phone into the car.

“What? No!”

“Yes. I’ve been listening to your weird-ass music since we left Spokane. It’s been hours.”

Garrett scoffed. “Oh, what, are you gonna put on Coldplay or something?”

Trying his best to keep a straight face, Andrew scrolled past the Coldplay song he was about to put on and said, “No.”

“Can we at least compromise?” Garrett asked. “Frank Ocean. I know you love Frank Ocean too. Sweet Life. Nights. Come on.”

“I do,” Andrew agreed. “But it’s not what I’m in the mood for right now.”

“Not in the _mood_?” Garrett repeated. “Andrew, there is no _mood_ for Frank Ocean! He is all the time music!”

Andrew grinned slightly and looked over at Garrett, whose mock outrage was quickly fading into a wide and hopeful smile. Garrett mouthed the word _please_ , and then no wasn’t an option.

“Fine,” he said, tossing his phone toward Garrett. “Frank Ocean. Put on whatever album you wanna hear.”

Garrett let out an excited giggle and started to scroll through Spotify while Andrew pulled out of the gas station and back onto the narrow road that led back to the highway. In seconds, the opening strings of Thinkin Bout You filled the car, and Andrew was happy Garrett had picked the album he knew Andrew liked most.

Garrett, of course, knew every word and wasn’t shy about singing along. Andrew knew most of the words too, but decided to stick with soft humming, much preferring to listen to Garrett’s voice weaving through the melodies he knew so well as the road stretched out before them.

* * *

After more hours of driving, once Andrew’s eyes started to cross, they pulled into a small highway town just over the Nevada border. About a half hour prior, Garrett had made them a reservation online at a Motel 6, only after laughing at Andrew’s suggestion to “just drive around until they found a vacancy sign.”

“A vacancy sign?” Garrett had asked. “Is it 1983?”

“I don’t know!” Andrew answered. “Isn’t that, like, part of road trip charm? Just going where the wind takes you?”

“In theory, yeah,” Garrett agreed. “But I did that for years, and trust me, it’s way easier to just have a reservation somewhere.”

“Fine,” Andrew conceded. “Ruin the fun. Make us a reservation. But we’re driving around until we find a diner for breakfast tomorrow morning.”

Garrett laughed and said, “Deal.”

In the small motel lobby, Andrew rang the bell again, then said quietly to Garrett, “Are you sure the reservation went through?”

Garrett nodded. “I have the email right here. I don’t really like that there’s no other cars in the lot, though.”

Andrew pursed his lips and rang the small brass bell a third time. Finally, thankfully, an older man stumbled out from the rickety door behind the counter, and the accompanying smell made Garrett wonder if he was actually just a corporeal cloud of cigarette smoke in an ill-fitting uniform.

“Yeah?” he croaked unceremoniously.

“Uh, hi,” Andrew said. “We’ve got a reservation.”

“Name?”

“Watts,” Andrew replied, and Garrett felt a tug deep in his chest at hearing Andrew give his last name. “Like a lightbulb.”

The man nodded and poked at the keyboard of his ancient computer with one finger, the loud clacks hanging heavy in the lobby.

“Yup,” he said eventually, then looked up at the two men and harshly said, “Two beds.”

It wasn’t a question, it was a statement, and his tone made Garrett want to contradict him just on principle. But no, he remembered, there was no reason for he and Andrew to share a bed anymore. Except Andrew hadn’t said anything yet either, and the silence was beginning to get awkward.

“Yeah, two beds,” Andrew said eventually. “Thanks.”

The man nodded and began poking at his keyboard again, and Garrett took the opportunity to wonder why it had taken Andrew so long to respond. Did he want to ask for one bed too? Or was he just tired after hours of driving? Was he going to be as sad as Garrett was when they were sleeping in their separate homes once again? Or would he be relieved?

A comically long amount of time later, the hotel clerk finally slid two key cards across the counter, and Garrett was slightly disappointed that they didn’t get an actual key.

“Room Two,” he said, then walked back to his office without another word.

“Nice guy,” Garrett said quietly, and Andrew laughed.

After dropping off their stuff in the room, they drove to the small 24 hour market Garrett had found online to figure out how to put together a meal when they didn’t have a kitchen to prepare anything. Much searching and even more junk food added to their basket later, Andrew found a small refrigerated case containing six very anemic looking, plastic wrapped subs.

“Is turkey supposed to be gray?” Garrett asked, turning one of the sandwiches over in his hand.

“I don’t think so,” Andrew replied with a laugh. “This BLT looks okay, though. If you just ignore how wilted the L is.”

Garrett frowned. “Can’t we just eat a shitload of Pringles for dinner?”

“We could, but I think we need, like, a little bit of protein.”

“But the protein looks so _gross_ , Andrew.”

“Here,” Andrew said, handing Garrett the somewhat salvageable BLT and taking the gray turkey from him. “You take that. I’ll brave this one.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Garrett said.

Andrew shrugged. “I don’t like tomato that much, anyway. But let’s find some salsa for these chips.”

“Now you’re talking.”

Eventually, they found themselves back in their hotel room, lounging in their pajamas on the bed Garrett had claimed with a plethora of food set out before them. Garrett was pleased to find the BLT wasn’t nearly as bad as he’d been expecting it to be, but Andrew couldn’t say the same about the turkey. Garrett offered to trade him more than once, but Andrew refused.

Once the substantial food was out of the way, they dug into their junk food. The only channel that wasn’t unbearably fuzzy or out of sync was showing reruns of The Big Bang Theory, and the free wi-fi wasn’t strong enough to stream anything on either of their laptops, so they were stuck with a laugh track droning in the background of their conversation.

But then they’d eaten their fill, and the conversation petered out, and The Big Bang Theory turned into an infomercial for commemorative coins and Garrett knew it was almost time for a moment he’d been dreading.

“We should probably go to sleep,” Andrew said, after the third time the infomercial had mentioned three easy payments of $19.99. “Lots of driving tomorrow if we’re gonna get back to LA.”

“Yeah,” Garrett agreed reluctantly.

Neither of them moved.

“So… I should probably go to my bed?”

Garrett swallowed the objection that nearly spilled out and nodded. Andrew nodded back, then pushed off Garrett’s bed and crossed through the very minimal space to the other. He perched on the edge, still looking at Garrett.

“Weird,” he said. “I almost forgot what it’s like to have my own bed.”

Garrett tried his best to smile. “Guess we’re both back to lonely and single now.”

Andrew raised an eyebrow, and Garrett realized his mistake.

“Not that we haven’t both been single this whole time!” he said quickly. “I just mean–”

Andrew held up a hand and gave Garrett a soft smile. “I know what you meant.”

“Right,” Garrett said, then automatically added, “Sorry.”

In lieu of a response, Andrew just smiled, then clicked off the lamp on the table between their beds and laid down. Garrett followed suit, trying his hardest to not think too hard about the current situation and how much it made him want to cry.

“Guess what I’m doing right now,” Andrew said quietly after a few minutes.

“What?”

“I’m starfished out across the whole bed. You should too. It feels so good, even though these beds are like fuckin’ rocks.”

The only thing Garrett could think was that he’d spend every night teetering on the edge of a mattress if it meant Andrew would be starfished out next to him rather than across the room. Instead of expressing that, he just said, “But I’m so cozy the way I am.”

“Your loss.” A slight pause. “Night, Garrett.”

“Goodnight, Andrew.”

Garrett stared at the ceiling, trying his absolute hardest to fall asleep, knowing how much driving he would have to do tomorrow, but unable to relax. For months, he’d let himself be lulled to sleep by the gentle sound of Andrew’s even breathing. Now, in this horrible motel, an inexplicable hum from somewhere in the building and the distant sound of cars on the highway worked in tandem with the distance between them to make the sound Garrett loved so much completely inaudible.

And if a few tears escaped his eyes as he felt himself finally drift toward unconsciousness, he didn’t have to tell Andrew about them in the morning.

* * *

“I was so annoyed,” Andrew said, his knuckles gripping the steering wheel tighter. “The whole first part of the video, her foundation and brows looked great, then she just ruined it with the eyeshadow. Like, who the hell puts _black_ on the inner corner?”

“A moron, I guess?” Garrett asked.

“Exactly,” Andrew continued. “I _guess_ it could be a look if you did it right, but this girl absolutely did not. And then guess what she did?”

“What?” Garrett asked.

“She did, like, this weird fade where she put a super light brown on her _outer_ corner and blended it all out.”

“No!”

“Yes! I had to check the title of the video and make sure it wasn’t, like, some reverse smokey eye challenge or something.”

“That’s horrific!” Garrett said, and for the first time, Andrew picked up the sarcasm in his voice.

He glanced over with a sheepish smile then turned his eyes back to the road. “You don’t give a shit.”

“No, I do!” Garrett insisted. “I just still don’t know shit about makeup. I didn’t realize _you_ knew this much about makeup.”

Andrew shrugged. “Shane and I started watching videos of people using our palette and then I just… kept watching makeup videos. It’s weirdly relaxing, watching someone who really knows what they’re doing go from barefaced to full beat.”

“Full beat,” Garrett repeated with a laugh. “Listen to you.”

“Shut up!” Andrew replied, laughing too. “I can’t help it. This is me now.”

“I love it,” Garrett said, and the sincerity in his voice made Andrew feel safe to keep talking without feeling embarrassed. “Please, continue. How else did she fuck up her full beat?”

“The eyelashes. Oh my god, the eyelashes. They looked terrible.”

“Not the eyelashes!” Garrett said, putting a hand against his chest in faux shock, and Andrew couldn’t help but laugh.

* * *

As they began to approach Los Angeles, Garrett felt unease settle in. He knew where they were now, the GPS had been turned off for about a half hour. But despite all the conversation during their journey, never once had they discussed what would happen when they got home.

Andrew’s car was currently in Garrett’s driveway. What felt like a lifetime ago, Andrew had driven over, and they’d both taken an Uber to the airport. This meant they’d have to go back to Garrett’s, and that made the idea of saying goodbye to Andrew that much more difficult.

It would be easy, Garrett thought, to just ask Andrew to stay. He could just say it, quietly put it out into the universe, and maybe, after all this time, Andrew would pick up on the reason why. Maybe, against all odds, the surreal fantasy Garrett had been living in for the past few months would bleed into reality. Then he merged onto the 5, truly signaling their return to Los Angeles, and Garrett’s stomach turned.

“We’re home,” Andrew said softly as he gazed out the window at the familiar freeway, and Garrett resented the warmth in his voice.

“Yeah,” Garrett said simply, and it was the last thing either of them said until their rental car came to a stop on the street in front of his house.

“Holy shit,” Andrew said quietly, turning his head toward the driveway, where his own car sat behind Garrett’s. “I almost forgot what our cars looked like.”

Garrett nodded. “I’m gonna miss this car, though. I can’t believe it made it all the way down the coast without any surprise stops.”

“Yeah, man, that’s what cars are supposed to do.”

“Eh,” Garrett said, unclicking his seatbelt. “My car gets me where I need to go.”

“Fucking barely,” Andrew argued, unclicking his as well. “You can’t tell me you don’t want a better one after this.”

“Maybe,” Garrett said. “It has been nice to have an air conditioner.”

“Oh my god,” Andrew said, laughing as he rolled his eyes.

Neither of them moved to get out of the car.

After far too long of a silence, Andrew said quietly, “It’ll be so weird to be alone after so long.”

Garrett just hummed in agreement. He could feel it bubbling up in his throat, an offer to stay that would do more harm than good. He knew his sister was right, and that he had to break this immersion and get back to the real world, where Andrew was strictly his friend, and they didn’t share a bedroom. But it would be so easy to just say–

“Maybe I could stay here for a bit?”

Garrett was stunned. “What?”

“I could stay here,” Andrew repeated. “Just for a night or two. I don’t… I don’t want to be alone yet.”

“Me neither.”

“So is that a yes?”

Garrett’s face broke into a wide grin, and he tried to suppress the butterflies in his stomach. “That’s a yes.”

“Cool. Let’s go inside, then. I’m starving.”

Andrew got out of the car, and Garrett allowed himself a moment to be completely, overwhelmingly ecstatic, any thoughts of Band-Aids to be ripped off or fantasies to quell instantly gone. He smiled down at the steering wheel in front of him, and briefly wondered if it was possible to smile so wide that your face actually split in half.

A knock on his window startled him. “You coming?”

“Yeah,” Garrett said, shaking his head slightly then getting out of the car.

“Am I gonna have to clean your room?” Andrew said as they walked toward Garrett’s door. “Or is it okay?”

“It’s…” Garrett paused. “Acceptable.”

Andrew sighed. “So we have to clean it up tomorrow?”

Garrett tried not to think too much about Andrew’s use of _we_ and _tomorrow_ and answered, “Yeah, I think so.”

“Great,” Andrew said, rolling his eyes, but smiling despite his words. “But let’s order dinner first.”

“Absolutely,” Garrett said, fitting his key into the door’s lock.

He opened the door and allowed Andrew to walk in first, then paused for a moment to take in the sight of Andrew in his house. It felt homey and familiar to see him there again, and it was the first time Garrett fully relaxed since they’d left for Spokane.

Before Andrew turned around and noticed him staring, Garrett ducked his head and walked into his house, then clicked the door closed behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [here are pictures and a video](https://www.thedodo.com/on-the-farm/shy-rat-bunny-best-friends-iowa) of a bunny and a rat who are friends, if you felt compelled to google it after garrett said that. i wrote the line before i searched for it because it just sounded cute and was delighted to find something.


End file.
